Emerald Eyes Liberty Valence
by akmarceau
Summary: A collection of prompts about our favorite people. Whole team but mostly Sharon/ Andy.
1. Chapter 1

1\. Past Lives

 **Prompt:** _Can I prompt the song Past Lives by Borne with Shandy through the years!_

In the place of Eternity runs a river so long, it can lead soulmates back to the world of the living. It's where the wandering souls of lovers meet, share a kiss, and wade into the water in hopes of another life together.

The shells of the people who did not meet their other halves aimless search the lush, green fields in hopes of returning happily to another life. The saddened souls of those who have been waiting decades huddle under a willow tree - ever growing to encompass the lost ones.

But it's by the tulips that flutter in the breeze that the river gives hope to those who walk deep into their other lives. The water takes the story of the two souls and holds it passionately, waiting for their return to the place of Eternity.

It's there that the veteran soulmates approach the crystal water. She pauses but he doesn't release her hand. He knows the price he would pay if he did and he can't imagine his life without her.

"Again," He says breathlessly and he knows he's said it hundreds of times before, but it has never failed. "I'll love you in any life. That's what a soulmate is."

"What if it's dwindling? We had to wait a while last time." He ran his free hand through the rushing water. Her green eyes followed the liquid.

"The river isn't dry," he stated and gently tugged on their hands. "I like both of my hands to travel you and love you to my full potential. I can't do that here." She nodded and grasped a hand over their entwined fingers. Her toe brushed the water before she walked deeper into the river with him.

Their heads were submerged quickly and she felt to familiar pulling at her mind and hand as the water took what touches she remembered of him. When they were finally forcefully separated, she let out a sigh. The moment the water breezed over her breasts, she knew they had gotten away again and would see each other in the next life.

 _Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found._

She remembered playing catch with her father in the yard. His attention more focused on the phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. Her throw, something he had yet to see an improvement with, flew by him in a breeze. It bounced off the wooden fence and rolled lazily in the grass. Her father slowly walked towards it, his hands motioning wildly as he spoke.

"Shar!" He called lightly as he gently tossed her the ball. It scampered in the grass and her little feet padded after it.

She remembered a lot about her father, but at this moment, it wasn't enough.

 _"_ _What were your parents like?"_ He had asked, but the question hung in the air as she shuffled her salad like the baseball had done to the grass in her memory.

"Loving," she finally responded. Her mother wasn't much that. She learned more from her grandmothers and she had always liked it that way. She felt older with their knowledge residing in her; wiser in many ways.

She didn't ask anything about his family, and the conversation had died by the time their orders came round. She studied him closely.

He was charming, considerate, but something was off.

"This was lovely," he had said, once his card was in the bill. "Can I take you out again? Next week?"

Somehow, she found herself agreeing to his offer.

Something was _off_ , and it wasn't the restaurant.

She met _him_ after the birth of Ricky. She vaguely remembered his face from the buddies Jack drank with.

He had fired two shots into the night sky at three in the morning to break up a bar fight.

He smirked at her from the other side of the tape and she had stopped in her movements. Everything had stopped, according to her. _Time, the universe, her heart_. And suddenly everything had clicked.

But it wasn't love or fondness.

It was anger, and hate, and messy.

They bickered for years; shouted, called each other names, made snide remarks. Even he knew, deep down, it was something else. Something besides the fighting that they had yet to explore.

It was after a long, drawn out case (not something that was ptracticualrly painful, but it tugged at the right heartstrings) that he sought her out one evening. She was Captain of Internal Affairs, but he found that intriguing and frustrating. Much like how their whole relationship worked.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

He didn't even recognize that his feet had taken him up to her office until she spoke. And by then, the reason he ventured to IA had escaped his mind. He shrugged resolutely and turned towards her door.

"Again," she tried selfishly. If it was him, he would know. He turned to face her. His eyes didn't hold hers for long, before falling to the rings on her left hand. Lamely, he shrugged again and then left for good.

She tapped on her desk slowly, her left hand suddenly feeling like two tons as the ring sparkled in the overhead lights.

His feet felt like lead as he made his way farther from her office.

 _Through all of my lives, I'd never thought I'd wait this long for you._

After his impromptu visit to her office, he had steered clear of the Wicked Witch who held a vaguely familiar pull over him. When he did run into Captain Raydor, her word, _"Again,"_ rang in his ears.

It had been weeks since his trip to FID and in that time, her rings on the fourth finger of her left hand had been removed.

He didn't question it, but he was suddenly filled with a happiness that kept a smile on his lips for days to come.

 _The timing is right, the stars are aligned._

It had taken until she was Captain of his division for him to finally do something. When he knocked on her office this time, he was prepared for her words.

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think we were the type of people to share things with each other, Lieutenant," Sharon said slowly. _He was talking about her transfer_ , she told herself. _Nothing more._ Andy took a seat in the chair across from her desk.

He was silent for a minute before saying, "Aren't you going to go home soon?" She shrugged lightly.

"I still have some work to do here and then—"

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"I'm sorry?" Sharon questioned.

"Past lives?"

 _It was his eyes_ , she thought, _that told her of another life. Another time._ She rose from her chair. He did too.

"Again," she tried. She knew he would know. There was something about him that made her feel like she was home in his presence. Their years of fighting morphing into something else, yet it still made sense to her that it could not be explained.

And for once she didn't need something laid out in full.

"That's what a soulmate is." In that second, time stopped again. She felt water rushing through her veins and flowing over her body. It was suffocating and liberating at the same time. He left out the beginning part, but that fine.

She thinks he moved first around her desk, but her lips touched his first. One of his hands laced through her fingers like they did in the place of Eternity, and the other rested on her cheek. Between locked lips and tongues, she raised their joined hands to his chest. Her fingers splaying across the material of his dress shirt. His hand paused before it moved to cup her face in full. They both sighed happily. Sharon let out a little hum.

It was all fine.

 _Past lives could never hold me down._

 **Please Review!**

 **Send prompts via PM or tumblr (akmarceau-writing)**


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. Two Men Walk Into A Bar…**

 _A/N : Thanks to all who submitted a prompt! That is what will keep this going._

 _I'm going to post these chapters every Sunday for the time being._

 **Prompt:** _Love your stories! Can I prompt Andy and Jack at a bar. (Did they ever talk about Sharon?) And Sharon picks up one of them?_

I hope I did this prompt justice…

Enjoy!

* * *

Two men walk into a bar. One orders a shot of whiskey. The other hesitates before ordering the same.

"What's new?" Jack started, his hand already motioning to the bartender for a refill. Andy shrugged.

"My wife is being a _bitch_."

Jack let out a cackle before saying, "I asked what was new. Get in line. Why did we even marry? Bachelors' have the best life. And they know it!"

Jack's eyes roamed the bar before they landed on a busty blonde across the room who had just ordered a drink.

"I don't know," Andy said with another shrug. "Yours doesn't seem too bad."

"She's got good assets," Jack sighed heavily, his attention on the woman at the bar. "None like yours though, honey," he said as he flashed her a dazzling smile. She tossed her tantalizing locks over her shoulder as she threw Jack a lingering look and shifted on her heels.

"You ever run into her at the station?" Jack asked, facing Andy.

"Yeah. Once and a while. Very controlling."

"And bitchy, and cold, and heartless. Probably getting a divorce, if not at least a separation."

"Here, here," Andy toasted lamely, his glass clinking against Jack's empty one. "Kate filed papers, too. Looks like she's taking the kids, half of my pension, and savings."

Jack grunted. He and Andy fell into a comfortable silence downing glasses of scotch and whiskey. 

The bartender cut them off at 1:30 in the morning, offering to call them a ride.

"Let's go to the next bar," Jack suggested.

Andy shook his head as he slowly said, "I'm going to get back."

"Got someone waiting for you? Not Kate, I hope."

"Yeah, something like that. Need me to call a cab for you?" Andy asked. He pleaded silently that Jack would say 'no'. He didn't need Jack to do anything that Andy would have to keep from Jack's wife.

"Nah. I think I'll stay out a little longer," Jack said as his eyes drifted back to the blonde.

"Alright," Andy said, throwing some bills next to his glass and heading to the door. He didn't give Jack a second glance once he stepped into the warm air. 

A car pulled into the small parking lot that the bar offered. A type of car that didn't belong in this part of Los Angeles.

Andy watched as a frazzled woman stepped out of the car, but left it idle. When the lights flicked on in the vehicle, he was able to make out two small children peacefully sleeping in their carseats.

Andy thought she seemed vaguely familiar.

The woman seemed hesitant in leaving her children alone in such a run down place, and Andy couldn't blame her.

"Detective," the woman said. Andy's eyes widened.

"Hi," he said plainly.

"Is my husband in there?" Sharon asked just as an eruption of approved hollers sounded from inside the bar. He thought he could hear Jack's laugh from within and Sharon seemed to make it out too.

"Whoa," Andy said as he faked a stumble to cover the sound; not that it took too much flare.

Sharon's arms reached out to brace him instinctively. His hand reached for hers— _to keep up appearances_ , he told himself.

"Can I call someone for you?" Sharon asked. Her eyes flew to her car before settling back on him.

"No, no. I should be fine."

Jack stumbled from the bar, his arm wound tightly around the blonde's shoulders. Andy saw it. He could have sworn Sharon had missed it, but the moist layer forming in her eyes said otherwise.

"Let me drive you home," she whispered sadly. Her eyes trailed after her husband and the blonde moving to the next bar. Andy would have bet that if Sharon didn't have her kids with her, she would be hot on Jack's trail. Sharon shook her head softly as she pulled his arm around her waist. He no longer needed the support, but he figured she did.

He didn't argue as she shuffled him back to her car. The kids didn't even flinch when he plopped down in the passenger seat.

"Where should I go?" Sharon questioned as she slid into the seat bedside him. She buckled quickly and straightened her glasses. Before darkness settled in the car, Andy saw the raw, red eyes that were once a beautiful green.

"Take me to the precinct. Please," Andy added. Even slightly drunk, he knew how to be semi-polite.

"I can't let you show up to work drunk, Detective. It goes against everything I work for," Sharon said.

"Drop me at the next corner then. There's a motel I can check into for the night," Andy reasoned. "Hey," he said as they passed the corner.

"I have a couch. It may not be the most comfortable thing," Sharon said with a little shrug, "but it will definitely let you rest."

"What about your kids?" Andy asked. He spun in his seat to get a look at the sleeping toddlers.

"I'm going to need help getting them back inside. I would hate to wake them again tonight."

"Oh," Andy said as he settled back. They road the rest of the way in silence. He watched as Sharon kept looking in the rearview mirror to check her kids. Satisfied each time that they were still sleeping.

"Nice place," Andy remarked as they pulled into a driveway to a quaint house. Sharon shrugged sadly as she shut off the car.

They didn't move for a second. He thought that Sharon was allowing her children a few more moments of undisturbed peace before they shuffled the little ones back inside.

"If you can get Emily, I think I'll be able to carry Ricky," Sharon said softly. Andy nodded and got out of the car. Sharon prepped the house keys before she unbuckled Ricky and leaned over to undo Emily. "She's the heavy sleeper," Sharon explained. Her eyes flashed in fear when he grabbed the door for balance. "I can make two trips…"

"I can do it," Andy said lightly. Sharon hesitated for the second time that night before pulling her hands away from her daughter.

She watched like a hawk as Andy lifted Emily from the car and closed the door.

She wrapped hand around Ricky's shoulders, her elbow supporting his neck, and swept his legs into her arm. She settled him against her hip like a natural. Her little boy sighed as his arms came up to rest on her shoulder so he could brace his head. Sharon rubbed his back soothingly as she nudged the car door shut. Andy was waited at the brick walkway with Emily curled into his chest. She was grateful she didn't have to wake her daughter again. Sharon passed him and made for the front door.

With practiced ease, she opened the door and stood to the side to let Andy in.

"Upstairs?" Andy whispered. Sharon smiled softly with a nod. Sharon pointed to a pale pink room at the top of the stairs. Andy made his way up while Sharon followed and walked with Ricky into a blue room.

Andy set Emily down on the ballerina sheets and pulled a comforter over her. He watched as the little girl rolled onto her side and popped her foot from under the covers.

"Thank you," Sharon said as they both made their way down the stairs. "I have some aspirin in the kitchen. Can I get you a coffee, or water, or…?"

"Aspirin and water sounds perfect. Thank you," Andy said as he padded behind her.

"Can I ask— nevermind. I don't think I want to know," Sharon aborted. "Let me get you a blanket and a pillow. The couch is right through there," she said as she pointed towards the living room.

Andy took the aspirin with a gulp of water before washing his hands and splashing his face in her sink.

"Here," Sharon said as she set down a fluffy sheet and pillow. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you," Andy said. Sharon nodded and turned to leave. "Sharon?" Andy called lightly. Sharon spun all too quickly on her heels.

"Yes?"

"I— thank you for doing this. I'm sorry about everything," Andy tried.

Sharon bit her lip as she brushed her hair behind her eyes. Hair that was not blonde like the woman's her husband was currently with.

"Jack doesn't know how good he has it," he said with a soft sigh, "I'll be gone in morning. Thank you. I mean it."

"It's nothing," Sharon said wiping her hands on her jeans. "Good night." 

Two men walked into a bar. One walked out with another woman. The other walked home with the first guy's wife.

* * *

 **Please Review!**

 **Send prompts via PM or tumblr (akmarceau-writing)**


	3. Chapter 3

**3\. Exotic**

 **Prompt:** _This an A/U. What if Sharon became a detective kind of like how Catherine Willows did in CSI? Thank you_

 _A/N:It's still Sunday here! My CSI is a little rusty, but I believe I have this right…_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Very infrequently are there men that come into the bar and sit quietly. Sharon has been using his presence for weeks.

Dancing has always been one of her favorite activities. Once Jack left again and gambled away most of their savings, Sharon had to find a job that covered a little more of the day-to-day payments. If she could dance and get paid— even better.

But in Las Vegas, there's only one type of dancing in most bars and it involved a pole and very little clothing.

The men around her found it sexy she never looked at them as they handed her wads of bills, but looking at them made the scenario all too real.

She managed to wiggle her hips and fly around the pole just until the song ended.

As she sauntered off the little stage for her first break of the night, she swung her hips with a little extra emphasis. There were some big tippers and if she could get them to stay, maybe Emily could start her private ballet lessons and Ricky could get that new computer he's been eyeing for months.

Andy was waiting patiently in his normal spot at the bar. He had his latest case spread open on the sticky bar top. The place reeked of stale booze and sex.

"What have you got for me tonight?" Sharon asked as she slid into the seat next to Andy and motioned for a glass of water. Andy took a sip from his cranberry concoction that let Sharon know he was still on duty. He shoved the folder as far as he could on the countertop so she could glance at it. Andy took time to study her. Since her little performance, she had donned jeans and a loose sweater. Besides her ridiculous makeup and teased hair, she looked normal.

One could never guess that this was something she did as a second job. Andy treasured the moments she sat next to him in plain clothes. It was also when she was in normal attire that she was wearing barely anything on stage.

"How much are you making tonight?"

The club had a _policy_ when it came to paying their dancers: a thousand dollars a night, but for each yard of fabric, they lost a hundred dollars.

Sharon shrugged as she gently fixed her glasses, trying not to smudge her make-up.

"800 not including tips," her attention never left the folder. There was something about the money she earned that felt dirty. When she used it to pay for groceries or new clothes for her ever growing kids, she felt people could see through the bills she was forking over.

Andy watched as she flipped through the next pages to the report. "Where's the record on the victim?"

Andy scratched his head, "There isn't one. We think he's using this name as an alias, but we have no idea what his real identity was."

"Have you tried searching through missing person?" Sharon asked. Her eyes flittered towards hi.

"God," he muttered. _She was beautiful_. Her shining green eyes, auburn hair, and high cheekbones (albeit enhanced by heavy makeup) made her absolutely stunning.

"No," Andy covered. "We haven't yet. We don't know where to start."

"Try using the alias first. Maybe he was close to someone in his new identity that could lead you elsewhere," Sharon said with a small shrug.

Andy nodded, "I'll try that." He took back the folder but made no motion to move. "Do you like rollercoasters?"

"Why?"

Andy smiled boyishly, "I'll wait for you to get off tonight. We'll go for a ride."

"Oh, Andy. It'll be at least another two hours once I get back up there." She knew he liked rollercoasters, but up until now, he had only packed up his folder with a mumble of, _"I'm gong to find a 'coaster,"_ and never invited her.

"I'll wait," Andy repeated.

The woman behind the bar motioned Sharon to head backstage.

"I understand if you decide to leave. Thanks for the case," Sharon said quickly.

. **.**.

She watched him for two hours. She danced to the pounding music with her eyes focused solely on him. Not that he was paying her too much attention. He had been on and off his phone since she had abandoned the seat next to him. Towards the end of her shift, the music started to slow as drunken men with lighter wallets trickled out of the bar. A few of the other dancers tried to approach Andy, but he had gently brushed them off. Sharon didn't know half their names, nor did she really have any intention to learn them. It just made the whole situation more surreal.

When she was growing up, this was never once where she saw her future. This crummy bar full of older men, a husband who was M.I.A— just missing the "in action" part or more so just missing, and two kids was not even in her ballpark of futures. She was more of a sturdy job, white picket fence type gal back in elementary school. As she grew older, a job in law seemed appealing, but at the same time, she did Jackson Raydor.

When she stepped off the stage for the last time that night (that month if the money she made was anything to go by) all that ran through her mind was _how did it end like this?_

What twisted fate left her raising two perfectly innocent children in Las Vegas? Whatever fate it was, though, at least she met Andy. He was a quiet supporter, but one nonetheless.

As Sharon scrubbed off whatever sparkles and liners she could from her face, she sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listen to her at this point.

The crowd outside had calmed but was still quite full. There were dancers running around her trying to find certain colors or clothes. She wondered when this chaos became familiar. Sharon let out a sigh as she gave herself a once over in the mirror. Her skin still glowed with bursts of glitter, but nothing that would stand out too much in the nightlife in Vegas. She wrestled her hair into a messy bun and slipped back into the clothes she had worn earlier before she joined Andy again.

The smooth jazz music was even louder in the lounge than it was backstage. Sharon wondered why men even came to places like these. She wondered if Jack was currently in a place like this, ogling some other woman's body.

"Ready?" Andy asked as he approached her through the few drifters in the back of the crowd.

"Yeah," Sharon said, wiping her hand on her jeans.

"There's a good ride just around the corner. It's not my favorite, but I'll start you off easy," Andy said. They stepped into the night air with a little sigh. There was a slight chill in the city that must have settled from the desert.

"Have you ever been on a rollercoaster?"

"Not in a few years, no," Sharon said quietly. "Why do you like them so much?"

"You'll see," was all Andy said as he tugged gently on her fingers to stand in line. She knew not when their hands had intwined, but she didn't fight it. It made her feel almost _normal_. And that itself was an achievement on its own.

"How many?" The operator asked.

"Two," Andy answered proudly as if taking her through a fine dining restaurant.

He led her to the back of the train and let her slide in first. He followed after, making sure her belts were secure before he checked his own.

"I like rollercoasters," Andy started, "because they let you forget all of your worries in their simple turns and drops. It lifts you up once you go down, and you know at some point, if even for a second, there's nothing besides this moment."

Sharon glanced at him with slightly parted lips.

"I guess I work with the dead so much that a rollercoaster can bring me right to this moment. This single, living moment. Crazy, huh?"

"No," Sharon said, "Not at all."

The train lurched forward. Her feet braced herself against the seat and clutched to rails.

The ride was only a minute long, but to her it felt like millennials. Andy was right.

The drops, turns, lifts; it all proved to her that this moment was nothing other than spectacular.

Las Vegas could not get better than this.

* * *

 **Please review!**

 **DON'T FORGET to submit any prompt of your choice via PM or tumblr (akmarceau-writing)**


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Disarmed**

 **Prompt:** _Your take on the first time Sharon shot someone?_

 _A/N: I bumped this one up the list (I promise to get to all of the prompts ASAP) because it seemed relevant at the moment. It is awfully short, but I thought it fit best..._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

There was a tinging in her ears she fears would never go away. The ambulance made no audible sound to her as it drove full away at full speed. Here eyes blurred the flashing lights in front of her. There was a piece of her that kept devilishly saying, " _At least it wasn't you_."

And she was glad it had not been her, but she felt terrible for feeling so.

Her gun hung idly by her side.

"Rook," her officer called, his calm hand waving her over to the IA detective. "Need your weapon, Raydor." Her fingers shook as she released the gun into the paper evidence bag. Her fingers as far away from the trigger. The detective nodded. "They'll want your statement. Then go home. We'll see you tomorrow." With a pat on her back, her officer was gone.

The detective quietly asked her the basic questions; "What had happened?", "What was the threat?", "Why did you pull the trigger?" But the real question was, "Where did you hit the suspect?"

Thee vents flashed before her eyes.

"I fired three shots," Sharon said.

"Where did you hit the suspect?" The detective pressed.

"Shoulder?" Sharon asked. She wasn't sure. What if it wasn't the shoulder? It could have been his chest. There was a lot of blood. "Oh God," Sharon whispered. She raised her hand to cover her mouth. She could taste to residue from the gun as she breathed.

The detective understood. "Go home. If I have nay more questions for you, I can ask them tomorrow."

She didn't break down until her feet were firmly on the hardwood floor in her entrance hall. She didn't know how she got there; who knew her address?

With shaky breaths and quiet sobs, Sharon made her way towards her bathroom.

"Sharon?" Jack called. He was lying in bed. His back towards her. "It's late," he mumbled. Sharon didn't say anything.

The shower was a welcomed distraction. The scalding hot water managed to wash through her skin to her core. Just what she needed.

 _I'll call in tomorrow,_ She thought, _see if the suspect is alive, or, not, then go to church._

Sharon let out a breath as Jack walked into the bathroom; the stifling humidity escaping to their bedroom.

"I'm not going to have any hot water tomorrow, Shar _on_ ," Jack muttered as he did his business. Sharon tilted her head into the spray, the hot droplets piercing and hiding her tears.

With the click of the latch, Sharon sunk to the floor. The tiles, warmed by the water, were slimy against her skin.

She curled her knees against her breasts and muffled her mouth both hands as she let out a scream.

 _"_ _At least it wasn't you."_

The little boy in the next room would have another day with his mother. She would be able to give him cuddles tomorrow.

The guy she shot might not.

The fact he was monster did nothing to squelch her feelings. He robbed a gas station and jewelry store, injuring two people, but he didn't kill them.

Her head bowed. Wet hair dripped water down her back and sides, sticking to any skin it touched.

When the water started to run cold, Sharon stood up. Her life would carry on. _His might not_. She shut off the tap and stepped out, grabbing her towel from the hook. Her hair would curl by morning, but she wasn't worried about that. Sharon slipped on the pajamas and padded softly into Ricky's room. Her son was sleeping soundly on his side with a stuffed dinosaur tucked under his arm. Sharon placed a kiss on his soft hair.

Her phone rang. Quickly, Sharon dug through her bag and answered it.

"Raydor," she said.

"Rook. The guy lived. You hit his shoulder twice, through-and-throughs, and bicep."

"Thank you," Sharon breathed. "I'm taking the day off tomorrow. I'll send the papers in later." There was a soft grunt from the other side of the phone. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well next time, make sure they die." The line clicked.

Ricky was safe. The suspect was alive.

Sharon was exhausted.

She climbed into bed next to Jack and pulled the comforter tight around her body. He would probably tug it towards his side at some point, but for right not, she had control.

* * *

 **Please review!**

 **DON'T FORGET to submit any prompt of your choice via PM or tumblr (akmarceau-writing)**


	5. Chapter 5

**5\. "Have you seen my belongings?"**

 **Prompt:** _"I hope when 5b starts Sharon & Andy are in a new house and Sharon can't find anything because Andy keeps putting things away in different spots than she's used to in her own kitchen. And Andy is in love with her light-hearted frustration and just kisses her on her nose instead of giving her answers, which just makes her madder."_

 _A/N: I had an absolute blast writing this! I will still be updating tomorrow, but I couldn't wait to post this too!_

* * *

 **Breakfast**

Andy woke with a start. The flat sheet tangled with his legs as his body violently twisted to the other side of the bed. His hand slapped down on the cool material next to him. Andy took a desperate breath and closed his eyes tightly. Cautiously, he rolled onto his back while running his hand over his face.

In the distance, he could hear quiet clickings as someone moved around downstairs. Andy's feet touched the hardwood floor and his knees cracked as he stood up. He padded softly into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and quickly brushed his teeth before making his way towards the stairs.

Sharon stood on her toes, peering around the cabinets with plates and bowls, clearly looking for what was not there. Andy watched as her hand skimmed the countertop underneath, searching for a small black vase that was no longer there.

She was wearing a loose nightgown with a silk robe; it took all he had not to walk over and slowly tear it from her body.

"Good morning," Andy whispered. He walked over to the cabinet Sharon had opened and took a mug from the top. He set it under the coffee machine and watched as it brewed.

"Where are the spatulas?"

"For what?" Andy asked. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep a smirk at bay.

"Scrambled eggs," Sharon proclaimed. Andy took a sip of his coffee, his eyes trailing her as she fluttered around the kitchen. As she approached the drawer to the left of the stove that held the spatulas, he walked up behind her and spun her around. His lips landed on hers passionately. Sharon hesitated for a split second before her arms came to hang around his neck and her tongue rolled along his. Andy wound and arm around her waist and slowly leaned her backwards so he could open the drawer. Sharon shifted her weight onto her heels and gripped Andy's shoulders as her teeth tugged at his lower lip. His fingers brushed against the silicone spatula, pulling it from the _proper_ drawer, in his opinion.

He stood up straight, slowly the kiss between him and Sharon.

"This?" Andy asked, his smirk no longer hidden.

Sharon let out a long sigh, "If it was in a container with all the other items for a pot, it would make a lot more sense. What drawer is it?"

Andy only smirked and kissed her nose.

 **Remotes**

"Andy!" Sharon called. She was still getting used to the quietness in the house. Her voice resounded off of the still bare walls (she had yet to get around to hanging artwork), but managed to travel the house. No matter where Andy was, he could hear her.

"Yeah?" He called back. It sounded like he was shouting from the second floor, so Sharon made her way around the maze of boxes to the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are the remotes for the television?"

"I'll show you," Andy said as he padded down the steps and past her into the living room. Sharon watched as he fumbled through the drawers beneath the TV and pulled out all the various remotes.

"Wouldn't it just be easier to keep them all in one spot? Or better yet, have one of the kids combine it all to one remote?"

Andy smiled and gently kissed her nose.

"I like this set up."

 **Bathroom**

Sharon sighed as the warm water cascaded around her body. After a long day of shuffling boxes and unpacking _their_ belongings, Sharon felt well overdue for a moment's break of back aching work. She closed her eyes and tossed her head back under the spray; the weight of the water in her hair pulling it back farther. Sharon ran her fingers through her tresses and fluffed it lightly. She brushed the water from her eyes and made a reach for her shampoo only to come in contact with the bar of soap.

She sighed again, only this time heavier and longer. She moved products around and shuffled razors and triple checked all the shelves, but her bottle was no where in sight.

"Andy!" Sharon called. She knew he would hear her through the bathroom door.

"Yes, my dear?" Andy asked lightly as he poked his head into the bathroom. Sharon opened the wavy glass door and faced him in the same manner.

"Where's my shampoo?"

"Oh, this?" Andy said as he pulled her green bottle from the medicine cabinet above her sink. Her eyes narrowed.

"How come all of my stuff is getting shelved through this move?"

Andy lightly kissed her scrunched nose as she took the bottle from his hands.

 **Closet Space**

"I don't even want to bother," Sharon mumbled as she rummaged through their closet. She was missing a ton of her clothes and more than two-thirds of her shoe collection.

"Andy?" Sharon asked as she turned to face him. He was lying on their bed, book in hand, glasses on his nose, and dressed in his sleepwear. "Where are all my clothes? And my shoes?'

"You're clothes are in the guest closet and your shoes are in the front closet." She realized that he didn't even need to look up from his book. He knew where everything in this _damn_ house was, and she, as a roommate, partner, lover, could barely find her way around the place.

"I've had enough," she stated firmly. "The kitchen is arranged the way you like it. Fine. The remotes all have a different drawer. Fine. My bathroom products are shoved in my medicine cabinet. Bearable. But I will not stand for my daily necessities to not be in one place." _That_ got Andy to place his book down.

"Andy," Sharon said with a light sigh, "I enjoy your company. I like the new living arrangements. But your organization skills are horrendous. How do you keep track of everything so easily?" She raised her hand a bit as he made to answer. "All I ask is that the clothes I am currently circulating, which means all that are now hanging inconveniently in the guest bedroom, be put in _our_ bedroom. And for all things holy, _don't touch my shoes_."

Sharon turned on her heels to face what was supposed to be their closet. She clumped all the spring clothes she wouldn't be wearing in her arms and made her way out of the room. Sharon hung all of her pale blouses, skirts, jackets in the spare closet and took all of her fall wear back into the bedroom with her.

Andy was arranging his side of the closet in a fashion that made absolutely no sense to her. He had cleared a good chunk of room for her clothes and had pulled most of his shoes from the closet. He gave her a sheepish grin as she walked in with full arms.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I clearly haven't been thinking. It's just— I just have been so excited to see this all happening, that I hadn't really thought about where things should go in _our_ house."

"It's okay," Sharon said with a smile. "Just moving forwards, at least let me know where all the stuff is going."

He nodded and dropped a quick kiss to her nose. Andy helped her hang all of her garments up properly. She would tackle her shoes tomorrow. She could stand it then. Tomorrow, they could rearrange to appease both of their styles. After all, tomorrow is another day.

* * *

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 **Catch the** ** _Gone with the Wind_** **line?**

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	6. Chapter 6

**6\. "My"**

 **Prompt:** _Can I prompt? The five times Andy says, "my" and the one time she wasn't his._

 _A/N: I think I understood this prompt! Keep them coming :)_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

 **1.**

 _"How would I introduce you?"_

 _"How about as your friend Sharon?"_

The ceremony for Nicole's wedding was absolutely gorgeous. The church was dressed with roses and the late evening sun made all the stainglass windows glisten, but not take away from the beauty of the bride.

Sharon had always overheard stories about Nicole, but this was the first meeting her.

"Hi Dad," Nicole greeted as Andy had pulled Nicole into a hug, further holding up the line into the reception. No one seemed to mind. "I'm glad you made it."

Andy smiled, "Me too."

"Who's this?" Nicole asked gently, a bright smile never leaving her lips.

"This is my friend, Sharon. Sharon, my daughter, Nicole," Andy introduced. Sharon caught the hitch on the word _friend_ coming from his mouth.

"Congratulations," Sharon said, gently shaking Nicole's hand.

"Thank you! Enjoy the evening. I'll stop around soon," Nicole said.

"Oh, okay," Andy said. "We'll find our seats." Andy's hand landed on the small of Sharon's back as he gently lead them into the church hall. "If you want to leave early, I'll take you home whenever. Thank you for doing this Capt— I mean Sharon."

"We'll stay as long as you'd like," Sharon whispered, her hand gripping his shoulder as he offered her seat.

After their meal, the night went smoothly. Andy introduced her to most of his family and to his in-laws. She was introduced to two very happy little boys who were becoming Andy's step-grandkids.

But he always said, " _My friend Sharon_."

 **2.**

Sharon tapped her pen mindlessly against the legal pad. Andy shifted his weight against his palms that were firmly placed on the table. He waited a beat, his eyes trained on Sharon for a beat before they eyed the suspect.

"Now, _my captain_ asked you write," Andy gritted. He shoved the paper closer to the glassy eyed man. "Write."

Sharon nodded her head in assent; her eyebrows raising in slight amusement.

 **3.**

The restaurant glowed with romantic ambiance.

" _Oh_ ," Sharon whispered.

"Is it too much?" Andy asked nervously, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he held open the door. "I could take you somewhere else. Somewhere we've already been?" He suggested.

"Andy," Sharon breathed, "This is perfect. It's gorgeous."

Andy smiled shyly.

"Reservation for two. Flynn," Andy told the maitre'd. The man smiled at the two and with a flourished, led the two to a secluded table. Andy stopped and pulled out the chair for Sharon.

"You're table awaits, _my dear_."

 **4.**

"What are we?" Sharon asked. She tried to sound distracted, like the fingers that brushed along his bare chest.

"Sharon," he said as he brushed her nose. "Andy," he pointed to himself.

"I mean," Sharon searched for the words. "Never mind."

They both sighed contently and Andy pulled her naked body closer to his.

"Friends with benefits? Are we back in high school; girlfriend and boyfriend? Partners? Lovers?"

"We're old is what we are," Andy snorted. Sharon lightly tapped his chest. "I like partner. And lover."

"We are not calling each other 'lovers' in front of the kids. Or the team."

"Partners it is then," Andy settled with a smile. "Can I call you _my lover_?" Sharon giggled and looked into his eyes.

"Only if you fulfill the role."

 **5.**

She sighed as she looked at the hot-headed Italian detective across the way. His arms were flying in exaggerated motions as he was giving his statement to her officer.

"I can take it from here," Sharon announced, taking pity on the frightened officer. At least he lasted longer than most. "What's the issue, Detective Flynn?"

"You," he spat, "Being _a pain in_ _my ass_."

 **6.**

"Andy!" Jack called from across the party venue. "Andy, my lad. How are you doing?"

Andy held his liquor up and swirled it gently. Jack nodded in understanding. "I'd like to introduce you to someone. Sharon, this is thee Andrew Flynn I tell you about. Andy, this is _my wife, Sharon_."

* * *

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	7. Chapter 7

**7\. Getting Back Out There**

 **Prompt:** _Can I prompt something? After Sharon's separation with Jack, she goes out on a date with a lawyer or someone (maybe Gavin set them up) and runs into Andy. Thank you in advance!_

 _A/N: Side note kind of, but I'll be updating the last chapter of I am Innocent next week. Be on the look out for that!_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Sharon fluffed her hair one last time and sighed softly. This was as much volume that would go back into it after a long, hot day in Los Angeles. She wishes she had chosen to shower before, maybe her hair would be a tad better and her skin wouldn't have a sheen of oil covering it, but she really didn't mind that much.

She had expressly told Gavin she wasn't ready to get back out there just yet. Nor did she really have the time. Her latest promotion in IA had her thrilled and worried at the same time. A better pay, but more people to hate her. Seemed the two went hand-in-hand when it came to internal affairs.

"Okay. I won't be out late. Call me if you need _anything_ ," Sharon said softly to her son. Ricky nodded from the counter, not looking up from his work. He had a senior paper due in a few days and had poured all of his energy into that and college applications. The bar stool was empty next to him. The place where Emily would sit to do her papers too.

Emily had left for New York just that year, and the condo wasn't the same. Sharon desperately missed her daughter, but was happy Emily was making a life for herself.

"Have fun," Ricky mumbled, not from lack of interest, but rather to not break his focus. Sharon reflexively kissed his temple and turned to the door.

As it clicked softly behind her, she wrist unconsciously jiggled the knob to make sure it was locked. Sharon let out a breath and straightened her dress.

Her eyes wandered the small bar before they landed on her date. Sharon had only met him twice before at Gavin's firm. Gavin had introduced them before taking her to lunch both times, but he seemed different at this moment. More relaxed and confident, Sharon thought.

He waved her over gently.

"Hi," Sharon said.

"You look great," he greeted, his lips brushing her cheek.

"Thank you," Sharon whispered. She didn't quite feel _great_ but his opinion would have to convince her.

At the corner of the bar, Andy caught sight of her legs. _God,_ he could pinpoint all of the female police officer legs anywhere. Especially hers. Her toned calfs flexed enticingly in the red Steve Madden pumps. The pale grey dress she was wearing flared just above her knees. Her steps had it swinging distractedly from her hips. Hips that were gorgeously defined by a silk red sash tied tight on the small of her back. Andy spun the glass tumbler in his hands.

Rumor had it she had just gotten a divorce or something Catholic equivalent. It seemed that she was on a date. A posh looking man had his hand hovering over the curve of her spine and it certainly did not belong to Jack. Andy bit his lip. He almost had the nerve to tell the guy to let up so the dress would swing some more.

Andy's eyes stayed glued on her body as the two approached the hostess. She calmly led them back the way they came, her date passed by him and Andy was ever so grateful her eyes were fixed on the little waterfall in the center of the room, else things were bound to get awkward.

He watched with slated eyes as her date pulled out her chair and gently pushed her in. Her back was towards his to he leaned back in his seat in order to get a full look at her. Her auburn hair was curled loosely and looked stunning cascading down the v-back of her dress.

Why doesn't she wear that to work one day? Andy doubted people would hate her after then.

He was personally indecisive about Sharon. He had ran into her a few times for bending a rule or three and a few times like these. She seemed relaxed and subdued. Both she could never feel at work.

Eventually, her date's eyes meet his for seconds too long. Sharon made to turn, but the date was quick to pull her attention back to him. He shot Andy one last pointed look and delved back into conversation with Sharon.

It was her gentle laughter that had Andy's attention back on her. From the way Sharon's head was tilted, Andy could tell a big smile was playing across her lips.

Lips that he had noticed early were painted red to match her shoes and silk sash. She was clearly dressed to impress and it seemed he was too. First date, the detective in Andy concluded. He tore his eyes painstakingly from the vision that was Sharon. Her date looked like he could easily take Andy if it came to it. And given Andy's slightly inebriated state (nothing he wasn't used to dealing with), it would be an easy win.

He didn't know how long he was fighting to keep his gaze from her, but a soft spoken voice from beside him brought him out of his thought.

There Sharon stood, her heels together, toes turned slightly out, thin fingers gripping a bold red Coach clutch.

"Excuse," she said to the bartender. "Can you point me towards the restrooms please?"

The bartender smiled eagerly, "Just down this hall. First door on your left." Andy just couldn't keep his eyes from her any longer. They made quick work of glancing her over; a practiced skill he had acquired through working with her. Dare his eyes last longer on her than appropriate and he'd end up as hated as her. Heck, the department would probably think they would go good together. But this time, he spent a second too long glancing her over. He blamed it on the dress and silk sash.

"Andy," she let out incredulously. He nodded his head in greeting, not trusting his words to be appropriate. Andy thought that would be it. Sharon had already, in a way, said hello, now she would use the restroom and get back to her date. But she didn't move. His eyes met hers and he could tell the cliche, _What are you doing here?_ was playing on her tongue. He shrugged, wordlessly answering her unspoken question.

"Are you having a good evening?" He ventured. Andy could not tell what possessed him to strike up a conversation with her, but he wouldn't be a complete asshole.

"I am. Can you wait a second? I'm just going to um go…." Andy watched as her fingers awkwardly angled in the direction of the toilets. He smiled genuinely.

"I'm not going anywhere." She matched his smile. His eyes were glued to her as she strode down the hall. He tried not to be too impatient, but he thought she was gone for longer than necessary.

When she finally did appear, she stood on the other side of him. His tumbler, which had been making it's way towards his mouth, sloshed the auburn liquor onto his dress pants.

"Here," Sharon offered as she handed him a wad of napkins from the dispenser on the bar top. He took them graciously and patted his trousers.

"Are you on a date?" He asked suddenly. Andy realized he didn't want her to go back and sit with that man.

"Yes," Sharon sighed. "A friend of mine decided it was time for me to put myself back out there."

Andy nodded, "I know what you mean. I have a few friends who did the same for me." She smiled in understanding. Electricity hummed between the two and he racked his mind for something else to say. Something to make her stay. But it wasn't fast enough.

"Everything alright?" Sharon's date asked. She nodded towards the man, but her attention stayed focused on Andy. "Would you like a drink before we go?" _Yes,_ her mind screamed, _but not with you_. Sharon's lips pursued as she gently shook her head no. "I'll walk you to your car," her date insisted. Andy watched as her eyes grew slightly, but she made no objection as the man led her away.

Andy watched as she brushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing all of her back as her eyes stayed locked with his to the front door. Once Sharon had stepped out, he snapped his eyes back to his glass.

"What the hell is happening?" He muttered. Andy motioned to the bartender for another glass.

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

**8\. There Isn't Any Love Without A Little Competition**

 **Prompt:** _I saw this on Tumblr… Andy and Sharon are rival CEOs._

 _A/N: I was hoping to get this ask :)_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

What she had today, she never would have accomplished without him. _He_ was as much credit to her success as herself. She might have taken a failing tech company and raised it to nothing (tripling the number of patents, double the revenue, making them a leader) but if it wasn't for him, there would never have been any competition.

He was a wealthy, cocky, douche that had the leading company. He doubted she could ever flip that company and he was damned if she did. He made that obvious to her from the start.

But it happened.

She had won.

Years and years— decades more like— had pinned them against each other, everyone vying to see who would make it out on top.

There were many faults and even more stubbles along the way. Personal, drunk, late night calls made. Threats to just give in to the other; be done with it. To give into the fight, forget the cause. But the other would never allow. And here they are. Fair and square.

"What do you think?" She asked. He knew she wasn't asking for opinions on the decor (very modern and cutting edge), but rather the documents, still unopened, in front of him.

The office was surrounded by windows, tinted slightly to offer some privacy, but he felt it was too open. All these years and it comes down to this.

The press were buzzing down the _extremely_ wide spiral staircase, looking to take a snap of the two together before they snap at each other.

He wants to say its too much, that what she's doing for him is more than he could have ever expected from her— but yet it isn't. It wasn't predictable, but he knew she would be nice about it.

All those years he thought about how he was going to gloat about winning. He was ready to watch her sail across the sea and never come back after it came down to it.

"A merger?"

She simply nodded, a small smile playing at her lips, tugging the lines around them (more lines than when they had originally started). It was a good gesture but he almost thought it was worse than the other option— complete destruction.

"Before you say anything rash, think about it," she said. " _It's the opportunity of a lifetime._ "

xxx

 _"_ _I've got you an offer. You interested?"_

 _There was a long pause before she glanced at him, "Me?"_

 _"_ _No. The other guy," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, you. It's the opportunity of a lifetime." He slid the papers closer to her, his toothpick dangling from between his teeth. She opened the packet, glanced at the numbers and laughed._

 _"_ _You can't be serious! This company has already fallen through!"_

 _His eyes shown, "Not yet it hasn't. And I don't want to see it happen. I do need some competition around here to keep me in check. I want you to make it work."_

 _Her laughter didn't last long after that._

 _"_ _You're setting me up for failure," she seethed._

 _"_ _Nope. You said you wanted to be in charge more. Here's a chance."_

 _"_ _I asked for a raise. I'm already working more hour than all the people here— including yourself— and I've got kids. Pay me for what I'm doing is all I asked."_

 _"_ _See, should've been more clear. I thought, with a place like that, you could pick your own hours and wages. You'll be in charge of all of it."_

 _She flipped through more pages, her anger growing in parallel to the smirk on his face._

 _"_ _Fine," she said finally. "I'll be coming for you with all I've got."_

 _"_ _Well, from the looks of it, I don't have too much to worry about."_

xxx

He regretted it the moment she officially left. He had hired a replacement, had the person train with her a few weeks prior, but it didn't work. He wound up having to hire _seven_ people to get remotely close to the amount of work she had been doing. The company wasn't stable without her. He almost slipped at one point and called her, prepared to beg, for her return. But it wasn't meant to be because the lull his company had fallen into quickly found it's way out. And by then, she had gotten her company of nothing to a company of something.

They were pegged against one another from that day on. The former employee of his company creating her own in the same leading market.

And she did it from nothing.

They slipped once (he considers it a rough patch for them both) after she finalized her divorce. He sent her dead roses.

She showed up on his doorstep and dropped the whole thing— vase, flowers, water, and stones— at his feet. But like most things on the verge of collapse, he seized them.

The next thing he knew, she was naked and straddling his hips. They had fucked and then gone back to fucking each other over.

It happened a few more times over the years (more than he would ever admit to) but they both came away with much more fire afterwards. He wondered sometimes what it would have been like to have her by his side. They could have easily dominated the whole technological industry, he thinks.

But if the document in front of him is any inkling, it seems she never needed him.

"I will need an answer soon, however."

"Sharon…" he breathed, his eyes meeting her green ones easily. She gave away no emotions.

xxx

 _"_ _How much more—and I_ mean _it, Andy— how much more am I going to be able to take before… before it's all a mess?"_

 _"_ _I think it already is," he said with a sigh._

 _"_ _And when it all ends…_ all _of it stops— the dust settles, the smoke clears, the… the end comes— what happens to the other? I mean it, Andy. What happens to the other?"_

 _He didn't have an answer for that no. Not that she would have remembered it either it seems._

 _She sighed too heavily into the phone before continuing, "I have spent so much of my life hating, I don't think I'll ever be able to love again."_

xxx

"This," Andy said motioning to the documents, "will destroy me."

Sharon shrugged, "Then turn it down. But no one can claim I didn't offer it."

xxx

 _"_ _And what are we even doing anymore, Sharon? Trying to avoid press by sneaking in and out of each other's houses like teenagers afraid of being caught by their parents?"_

 _"_ _We can't give in."_

 _"_ _That's all you say anymore. But can you tell me what it even is that we're fighting for? Besides the obvious spot of industrial domination?"_

 _"_ _Nothing. Andy, this," she gestured between their naked bodies, "is nothing. It's another reason to keep fighting."_

 _"_ _And if I'm tired of fighting?"_

 _"_ _You're not," Sharon said sternly, "I'm not."_

 _She watched him become more withdrawn— watched the light fade from his eyes, the lines on his face become emotionless. More importantly, she watched him walk away._

 _And she convinced herself, again, that this fight is what she lived for._

xxx

"And if I agree?"

"A clean cut. All of this… all these years means something."

"Means something to you," he mumbles. And she doesn't disagree, but then again neither does he.

She watches as he tears the tape on the documents and pulls a pen from the holder, knocking the whole thing over in the process.

He signs with deadly precision.

Sharon is surprised he agrees. She had thought this would be more of a formality than anything.

"You never cease to surprise me, Andy," Sharon whispers. And then her thoughts are everywhere— him surprising her professionally, publicly, and personally (romantically and in the bedroom). She realizes, he's done it all and never asked for the credit.

She scans the document to make sure he's signed in all the proper positions. Once she verifies, she places the whole thing back on the table. Decades of fighting, of falling, of rising, of fighting are all over.

"The press," he reminds her. She nods in agreement. The both walk onto the catwalk. Her heels clicking with power and floating on victory.

And the press goes _wild_. In seconds, he and Sharon are shaking hands, smiling politely in all directions. Eventually his hand slips around her waist and she doesn't object.

She's looking away from him when his nose brushes against her ear, and she doesn't react in hopes it was an accident, but then his breath tickles her hair.

"You spent your whole life hating, maybe. But I haven't."

Again, she's surprised. Her eyes whip around to meet his. They're the cleanest blue she's ever seen and they're full of _love_. She gasps, overwhelmed by the power of it all and she thinks that yes, she could have lived off of this instead of hate.

His lips are on hers and her hands are clutching his shoulder and the grasping nape of his neck for support as he leans her back. He deepens the kiss when she starts to respond instinctively. It's only seconds (but it feels much longer) before she's coherent enough to stop this. He's leaving her with a professional mess and a personal disaster.

And she's not sure how she's going to handle the press without him against her.

* * *

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	9. Chapter 9

**9\. The One That Got Away**

 **Prompt:** _Could you please do a prompt where Sharon is an attorney defending Andy? Have it end however you like._

 _A/N: Might think twice about adding that last part again…_

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

"Stop _talking_ ," Sharon hissed. She didn't know if this guy was an idiot or just extremely bad at taking directions that could save his life.

He was some hotshot cop that had been _very_ drunk and a _very_ trigger happy one night. His aim was terrible and he shot and killed an unarmed suspect; wounding one of his fellow officers in the process.

" _I got that dumbass though_ ," he had told her in the depositions with a smirk.

From then on, she knew this would be her hardest case. He had been anything but helpful- giving snide answers to all of her questions.

And if she thought he was hard to handle in an office, he was even worse in the court room.

"You got everything under control there, Sharon?" The judge asked. She rose slowly, trying to settle her anger deep within.

"Yes, Your Honor," she replied. "I would like to make a motion to break for the day. My client and I have some things to discuss following the evidence presented today."

Judge Clarkson eyed her sympathetically. Sharon Raydor was the best lawyer he knew. She could deal the law inside and out and would make a fair judge. And to his knowledge, she was in the runnings this year for an appointment. That is, if she could win this case. He knew the committee really screwed her over. There were still months before appointments were to be made, and most of the misogynist men did not want to give her a chance to look good.

Even he didn't know how this case would look on her. He would love to see her become a judge, but he wasn't sure how she was going to do that with her defendant being one of the worst he had seen.

"We'll stop for the day and resume sessions at 9 am tomorrow," Clarkson decided with a small shrug in her direction. She nodded her head in appreciation and let her shoulders drop.

"What are you even _thinking_? Do you even _think_?" She asked him. He simply laid his head down on his arms and sighed into the table. "My life and career are on the line with this case. Do you understand that? If I don't get you off, I'm not getting an appointment for a judgeship."

"You think _my_ life and career aren't on the line?" He growled. He lifted his head, his brown eyes full of anger and directed at her. "I got a buddy at the station, comes and visits every once and a while, he said that he heard from some politician they're going to give me the death sentence. Make and example that they're cracking down on the bad cops around here."

Sharon stopped pacing for a moment. She leaned her back against the cold cement of the private cell. He sat in a metal chair at a metal table with cuffs around two sore looking wrists.

"I know the judge. He doesn't do death penalty. Life, though, is a possibility."

"Do you know the new one? The one that the prosecutor is going to motion to replace Judge Clarkson? You screwed me today by motioning for a break. And that judge screwed me by granting it. Now they got him on being biased against prosecution because they have been asking for breaks from day one in anticipation of this."

She let the information soak in before she responded.

"How come you've never told me this until today?"

"Because you weren't listening, Lady! You're too hell bent on that appointment to listen to me."

"I've got a lot of people betting against me," she gritted out.

"Yeah and I've got a lot of enemies in Hell," he sighed again, "Look, I don't want to die, you want to win. Let's make a deal— you like those right?"

"I know the prosecutor, he won't make a deal."

"How?"

"He's my ex-husband."

"You were married to Jackson Raydor? I used to go out drinking with him. Complained an awful lot about you."

"Mr. Flynn, you need to learn how to keep your mouth in check and _immediately_. You are not helping yourself or me by making comments that are irrelevant. If we do lose this judge, there is a very likely chance you could be sentenced with the death penalty. Grow up."

When he came into the courtroom the next day, he seemed to be more remorseful.

"What happened?" Sharon whispered as he sat next to her at the table.

"My partner was shot last night. He's going to be up in the hospital for a few days. Told me the prosecution got us a new judge."

And sure enough, in walked two judges.

"Approach the bar," Judge Clarkson called. Both she and her ex-husband walked up to greet the judges.

"Judge Clarkson, Judge Withers. Good to see you both," Jack Raydor said conversationally. Judge Clarkson gave him a weary look.

"Judge Withers will be taking over this case since there has been a motion to remove me on the basis of bias for the defense," Judge Clarkson stated. He handed the gavel to Judge Withers and walked back into his chambers. Clarkson shot a look over his shoulder toward Sharon.

She had her head slightly bent but her eyes shone red with anger. He only hoped she could win this case.

Judge Withers laughed at all of Jack's jokes and nodded his head in agreement to his statements, both of which were affecting the jury that was going to be sentencing Mr. Flynn.

"You need to tell me everything you know and now," Sharon seethed as she and her client returned to the jail for the day.

Andy gave a little shrug in defeat, "That's all I got, Lady."

The two of them avoided looking at each other in the small cell.

"So that's it?" he asked.

"No," Sharon stated firmly, "You can't give up now."

"And what if I'm done fighting?"

"I've got enough left in me for both of us," she said softly. And although he might not have shown it, he was eternally grateful.

The next day in court didn't go any better and neither did the day following. By the end of the third day, when Andy Flynn was brought back to the cell so he and Sharon could talk, he had completely accepted his fate: there would a needle with his name on it.

"Tell me the truth," he finally said to her, "am I going to live."

She shook her head slowly. Her eyes apologizing in their own way. He let out a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry you won't get the judgeship."

 _I'm sorry my ambitions put a poison needle in your arm._

Sharon looked at him resolutely, "I doesn't matter to me anymore."

She waited a beat, neither of them breathing, before standing and leaving. Her heels clacked on the concrete as she stumbled her way out of the jail.

The last day of the trial arrived. The closing arguments were heard, and the jury deliberated.

Andy turned to Sharon, his nose brushing her ear in the process.

"Whatever they say," he said, nodding in the direction of the where the jury was, "I know it wasn't because of you."

Sharon gave nothing away, but she swallowed a lump in her throat and her heart dropped. She wanted to ask how he could be so at ease with the whole thing. She wanted to ask him a lot of things, but before she could even formulate a question to be heard, the jury returned.

And the word _guilty_ hung heavy in the air.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 10

**10\. Going Back to Paris**

 **Prompt:** _Hi! One of my favorite songs is Paris by Dido. Could you write something like the song? Thank you_

 _A/N: I never heard this song until I saw this prompt, but I'm now in love with it too. I hope it did it some justice._

 _Enjoy!_

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 **1.**

When she met him in London, England, it was purely a coincidence. Simply two officers from the United States attending the same International Police and Protective Services conference. She had gotten her first glance at him when she had walked into the hotel on check in day. She had seen him chatting up some blondes at the bar, smiling seductively. At first, she thought he was going to be some hot shot that didn't know his place. But then, he was giving her that same seductive smile the next night, and the night after that, and all the nights they were at the hotel. She just couldn't help but fall into his arms.

And from his arms to his bed.

It was the best one night stand she had in… forever.

They had spent the last night together before they were set to return to the States, skipping the final lecture and ending drinks. She snuck out in the morning, leaving him in the tousled sheets with that seductive smile faintly playing over his sleeping features.

She got back to her condo in Los Angeles, California and crawled into her own bed.

That night she couldn't sleep.

All she wanted to do was to crawl back into his and never leave.

 **2.**

When she ran into him at a conference in Berlin, Germany, it was slightly awkward at first, considering she had left him without saying goodbye. He seemed oddly hurt by that fact, but never voiced it. However, by the second night, as they laid fully satisfied in bed next to each other, he pulled her close and fell asleep. She wasn't going to say anything, but it seemed like they had both missed whatever it was that they had in London.

When she was set to return to the States this time, he saw her off at the airport. They had been woken early by the sun and bathed in each other's presence. He had drawn patterns aimlessly on her back— tattooing his touch on her skin. She had simply hummed in content and snuggled further into his chest.

When her flight was called, she threw her arms around his neck impulsively. He buried a hand deep in her hair and held her close.

It was the most cliche moment in her life, but it was also a moment she would never forget.

He didn't know if he would ever see her again.

 **3.**

When she saw him at another conference in Vienna, Austria the following year, she was stunned. He didn't say, _"I've missed you,"_ because his eyes had said all the words that his mouth couldn't voice. That conference she vaguely recalled. They had spent most of the time in the hotel room together than at any of the lectures or group meals.

It was when he screamed her name in ecstasy that she knew she couldn't be away from him that long ever again.

 **4.**

It had been three years since the last time she saw him. But looking at him from across the hotel in Budapest, Hungary, she knew that nothing had changed.

They talked more this trip— about his family, her family, their hopes and dreams, troubling cases, favorite foods and colors.

They stayed in bed the whole conference. They ordered room service at the strangest hours and only when they were hungry for something other than each other. She missed her flight and the connecting one but didn't have a care in the world. He however, didn't miss his flight. She saw him off at the airport much like he had done for her years ago.

She walked back to the hotel alone. She tidied the hotel room— his— that they had been in all week.

When she settled on the breakfast bench overlooking the busy Hungarian streets below with her book, a business card slipped from the dog-eared page. He had left his number and address.

When she saw the town and state she nearly squealed in delight. He was close enough where they could continue meeting each other occasionally, but not close enough where he would cause an issue at her work.

She didn't know what God to begin thanking for putting him on Earth with her.

 _San Francisco, California_ never seemed closer than now.

 **5.**

She was in Paris, France when she finally saw him again. She knew he was coming this time; they had been talking for a little over two months. Neither bothered to even check in at the conference. She didn't even step on her hotel floor.

They stayed in his room for the week. Sleeping, eating, and loving.

They talked a little, but mostly, their conversations were in moans and breathless names whispered in the heat of the moment.

At the end of the week, neither wanted to leave. Neither wanted to part with the other. She saw him off to the airport, saw him board his flight.

They promised to call each other once they were State side, wanting to find time for each other.

 ** _After._**

It was two weeks before she heard anything from him or of him. She was heartbroken and angry that he didn't keep his promise to call her. She missed him dearly.

It wasn't a phone call, but rather a news article pinned to the bulletin in her precinct.

 _San Fransisco Police Detective Shot Dead._

Her heart stopped. Her life stopped. It was him.

She couldn't see straight, she couldn't breath. She kept her head low and her eyes downcast.

She puked her light lunch up in the stall.

But it wasn't the headline or his name that killed her.

"He never mentioned he was married," she whispered.

That same day, she got a notice that the next International Police and Protective Services conference was to be held in Paris, France again.

She declined.

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	11. Chapter 11

**11\. We Follow The Law**

 **Prompt:** _Could you please write a Good Wife Spin? I love the idea of Sharon Raydor achieving her dream of being a lawyer. I see her as Diane Lockhart._

 _A/N: My god. Sorry, but I've been grieving Sharon Raydor for so long, I almost forgot how to write her. Can't believe I haven't written anything since that terrible Major Crimes end. I only wish I could have written that..._

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She liked it best after hours. The phones didn't ring, the halls were deserted, and the few who stayed late worked quietly in their offices.

It reminded her of when the firm was just a start up. The open floor plan in that rundown building on the outskirts of town.

But she liked this better. The skyscraper that overlooked the busy city, the fame that came with having a big firm, but most of all she liked helping people. That's what being a lawyer is like; helping people.

She stayed late not because she had work to do, but she knew that there was a letter written half-heartedly on a piece of yellow legal paper, sealed hastily in a stark white envelope that she didn't want to read. Another letter. Another lonely night.

Another reason to get a divorce.

Just down the hall, where the lights to the family law department were off, she thought of leaving her paperwork there.

Her fingers brushed over the sign that had been saved while the building tenant reclaimed the twenty-sixth floor.

 _Raydor, Baker & Hobbs_.

The three names held more weight in Chicago than any single politician. It put them under constant scrutiny, but at least they could keep doing what they loved.

A corner office was her highest demand when Hobbs and Baker brought her in. Both were happy to give it to her. Between her connections and clientele, she was offering them more than what the whole office was probably worth anyways.

Gavin's office was across the hall from hers while Andrea's was down a floor with the first years.

Sometimes she wonders if her and her husband's firm would have ever taken off and grew to the magnitude of this one.

Sometimes, she's happy it did not.

Gavin has been pushing for her to divorce her husband for years— almost a decade. There were some personal reasons, some financial ones, a lot of social ones, and some she just couldn't explain.

Jackson Raydor was Attorney General, hand picked by the governor. If they got a divorce, the scandal would be immense. Very few people knew of the troubles between them. They always attended social parties and events together; papers loved pegging them against each other.

Chicago loved them, but neither loved each other.

Gavin started to really press the option of divorce once the new private investigator came in.

She needed information on a company Hobbs and Baker were thinking of taking on— one that seemed a little off but were offering to pay a good sum. She had spoken to the PI over the phone to see hoe soon the file would be ready.

The next day she walked into her office as if he did that everyday. She was angry her meeting was disturbed, but the minute her eyes laid on him, with his mirror reflective sunglasses, black leather jacket and dark-was tight jeans, her mouth went dry. He was incredibly handsome and extremely cocky.

The company they were going to represent had a side business, one that involved drugs and large amount of cash. She was opposed to it immediately.

She called a partner meeting and laid out what the PI had relayed. Surprisingly, it was a practically unanimous vote. They were going to take the company on regardless.

Sharon kept the PI, Andy, on. She wasn't going to allow herself to be blindsided and she needed the "I told you so" rights.

That day came faster than she predicted.

"We've got a problem," Andy said over the phone.

"We?" Sharon said, slightly amused.

"Well, you," he said.

"What is it?"

"They're selling internationally. Wanted by the Mexican government as of an hour ago."

" _Fuck,_ " Sharon whispered, a hand running through her hair as she sat straighter in her chair.

"I hope you know how to defend in Mexico."

She sighed, "Alright. I need to speak with the partners."

"One last thing," Andy said.

"No more bad news," Sharon warned.

"Let's get dinner tonight." Sharon stayed silent for a minute.

"Fine. Pending the partner meeting, I should be out of the office by 7."

"Okay if I pick you up from there?"

"Sure," Sharon said.

"I'll see you then," Andy said. He ended the call without another word.

"Okay," Sharon whispered. She set her phone down and spun in her chair. The sun was slowly setting in the distance. It was only four o'clock, but there was a lot to be done.

"Assemble the partner for me please," Sharon said into the intercom to her assistant.

"Yes ma'am," was her quick response.

The partners were in an uproar. Gavin and Andrea were pissed she had kept surveillance on their client. She knew they were secretly pleased this didn't blow up in their faces. At least they were ahead of it.

"Who'd you put on the surveillance?" Gavin asked her later as he and Andrea followed her back to her office.

"Andy."

"Is there a conflict of interest?" Andrea asked.

Sharon squared her shoulders, "No. It's not like I'm sleeping with any of the interns. My personal life, if I even have on anymore, does not conflict with my career."

"Does Jack know who Andy is to you?" Andrea eyed her suspiciously as she asked the question. Sharon resisted rolling her eyes.

"No," Sharon said slowly, "because there is nothing for him to know."

Gavin nodded slowly, "Good work."

He tapped Andrea on the shoulder to get her to follow him out. She followed him reluctantly. Sharon slumped into her chair.

 _Don't pick me up. I'll meet you. Text an address._

 _Serve, it's on the riverwalk_. She smirked at his fast response, but was pleasantly surprised by his choice. Serve was a new restaurant that had opened not long ago, but it was quickly pegged as 'the most romantic meal place.'

"What do you have?" Sharon asked as she took her seat across from Andy in the busy restaurant. Andy slid his folder across the table. Sharon opened it carefully to reveal nothing.

"I can't work for you anymore."

Sharon felt her heart drop. She searched his eyes as he took a slow breath. "I've taken a job with your husband. Seems he wants to keep the enemy close."

"I see," Sharon said, reaching for her glass of wine and letting the noise in the restaurant surround downed the glass, her green eyes on his the whole time. With a sigh, she lowered her glass and pulled a twenty from her purse. She was standing in the cool Chicago night air before Andy reached her.

"I don't like things complicated. Working for you would make things complicated."

"And what? Working for my husband doesn't complicate things?"

"No!" Andy said, drawing out the vowel, "you're husband doesn't think things through."

"How so?"

"He hired me on suspicion of being with you. If he finds that to be true, he won't be able to fire me. I'd know all his secrets."

Sharon smirked at his logic, "If Jack finds out..."

"I know," Andy said as she trailed off, "let him find out."

His kiss surprised her. It was deep and powerful.

In a city of lies and secrets with a job protecting the people, she could get used to this.

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 _A/N 2: To my faithful followers and reviewers- I am grateful for your support and love. It's what got me back into the swing of things. To my prompt sumbitters- I swear I'm getting there! I had started a lot of the prompts you gave me, but could never end them. There's more from where this one came._

 **As always,**

 **Please review!**

 **DON'T FORGET to submit any prompt of your choice via PM or tumblr (akmarceau-writing)**


	12. Chapter 12

**12.**

 **Prompt:** _I have a playful prompt from around the bean bag incident. I always thought that, even when Andy hated Sharon, he was still very attracted to her— which frustrated him to no end. So here it is: "Oh come on Provenza, she may irritate me but who doesn't like sexy women with guns?"_

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As he waited for the elevator in the parking garage, he lightly tossed the red, circular beanbag in his hand.

It couldn't have weighed more than a couple of ounces by his guess, but when it hit Hector square in the forehead, the guy went down hard.

He was still in shock by the shot— more surprised over who fired the shot. Who would have ever thought that little Miss Captain of the Force Investigative Division would be the first to pull the trigger. His fingers were itching on his glock, but one look from Provenza and Tao had him handcuffing the woman accomplice instead.

The elevator dinged and he stepped in, pressing the button to Major Crime's floor.

Gabriel had been the one to toss him the beanbag as they handed off the suspects. There was no way he was every throwing this away. There was nothing sexier than seeing the do-it-by-the-book Captain taking a shot. He was honestly starting to wonder if the Rat Squad had taken all of the natural cop instincts out of her.

Guess she still had it.

He tossed the beanbag one last time before tucking it into his pocket and scanning into the division. The team was already at their desks starting their paperwork and doing final research on the case. He tucked the beanbag into the top drawer of his desk and started his own work.

But for some reason, he could not get the image of Sharon Raydor standing steady on black stilettos with a rifle pressed into her shoulder.

He figured she had obviously practiced with the weapon a little. She held it naturally, but with that by-the-book look that made the beanbag gun just seem so off in her hands. The only thing that could have made his day— hell, maybe even his year— would have been if she was in a skirt. He was a sucker for her legs anyways. Now _that_ thought was going to keep him up for a few nights. Sharon Raydor, long exposed legs, heels, beanbag gun pressed to her shoulder.

He shook his head with smile and straightened in his chair. He needed to gather some self control here. Raydor did her job; she aided in the safe apprehension of the man who try to assassinate DDA Hobbs.

Yet this slight infatuation he had revolving around Sharon was only heightening. They could fight for as long as his lungs would last and she would give back as good as she's got. She was almost his equal in a sense. No doubt she had more brains, but he thought their minds kind of aligned.

He felt a smile stretch across his face and gently shook his head. He caught Provenza's steady eyes and quickly turned back to his work.

Provenza knew more than he wanted too about Andy's feelings for Sharon. When they went to the bar and after Provenza had one too many drinks, Andy liked to ramble about the infuriatingly beautiful Captain. It's not that Provenza didn't see it too— hell she had good enough assets for a second glance— but she also outrank him and caused too many problems for his liking.

The Chief came into the murder room and started asking questions but stopped abruptly when Fritz came into the room completely unharmed. He got a hug for that.

He heard the clicking heels before he saw her, but the sound gave her away. Andy straightened in his chair as _she_ came into the murder room with a manilla folder in her arms. She handed it to the Chief saying something about there being no founding for the police brutality charges, but he was focused on the way her lips formed the words and the slight tilt of her head.

Provenza had looked up at her, blatantly staring, like most of them were. When the Chief started to look through the file, Sharon looked down at Provenza who gave a single nod of approval before turning back to his crossword puzzle. Sharon blushed and tried to hide her smile, but Andy saw it. Provenza shot him a look and he was sure he must have been drooling at this point.

He lifted the beanbag from the drawer and waved it gently at him in response. Provenza rolled his eyes so far Andy was sure he must have seen stars.

"Thank you, Captain," the Chief said and before he knew it she was nodding politely and turning on her heels. He stood up abruptly, gripping the bean bag, and headed towards the break room hoping to beat her out the other doors and catch her at the elevators.

She had already pushed the button to go back up when he came bursting out of the doors. She looked at him and smiled gently.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?"

"I… uh, just wanted to congratulate you on a good shot." _Wow_ , that sounded stupid even to his own ears. Slightly taken aback, she blinked and her smile grew.

"You keeping the beanbag?" She asked. Andy looked sheepishly down at the beanbag gripped in his hand. He slowly released it and saw how dwarfed it looked in his palm. He shrugged gently in response to her question. He didn't really know why he wanted to hold onto it. Maybe to remember the day, or her standing with a rifle pressed to her shoulder and her very concentrated face as she pulled the trigger.

"Figured we should keep track of these. They seem useful," Andy lied.

Sharon's eyebrows rose gently and she hummed in agreement. _God_ , that sound was heavenly. The elevator dinged and pulled them both from reality. She blinked twice and shook her head. The smile was still gracing her lips.

"I'll see you around, Lieutenant. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Aye, aye, Captain," he said goofily. He watched as the elevator doors shut in front of her before he turned back to the murder room. His feet were heavy but his mind was pleasantly numb. His thoughts were on Sharon and the beanbag gun.

"Flynn!" Provenza called as he entered the murder room.

"What now?" Andy asked as he walked over to the older man's desk.

"Why do you need to keep that… thing?" Provenza waved his newspaper at the beanbag in Andy's hand.

"Why not?"

"She's no good. Works for the rat squad. And she makes our job harder."

"Oh come on Provenza, she may irritate me, but who doesn't like a sexy women with a gun?"

Provenza's pale face was worth the comment.

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